


Poor, Unfortunate Souls

by placidings



Category: Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: F/F, anyway hehe read between the lines na lang beshies, first fanfiction up her can u believe, nabanggit naman si Gani so yeah, shet nakalimutan ko apelyido ni Juli im so sorry babygirl :---(, thank you ate Sin for the prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placidings/pseuds/placidings
Summary: "They would be divinities, they would bless the streets with their mere presence; neither one paling in comparison to the other, both as radiant as the sun above. They belonged together."In which Paulita finds something--or rather, someone--just as beautiful as her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i found this headcannon in the el noli group on facebook (posted by ate Sin) and thought it’d be fun: 
> 
> HEADCANNON: Nakaabang lang si Juli tuwing may nanghaharana sa kay Paulita Gomez kasi alam niyang binubuhusan ni Paulita ng tubig ang lahat ng sintunadong nagtatapang mangharana sa kaniya.

The name Paulita Gomez draws hopeless sighs from the bosom of every young man & murmurs of adoration from the lips of every young woman across Manila. She is Helen of Troy; her beauty inspiring the deepest of desires from both men & women alike. Have you seen the way her fingers curl around the arm of her beloved or the way it seems as if she treads on air with her languid steps? She is grace personified. And should you have the fortune of encountering one of those who crave for just a look from her cunning eyes and a sly smile, they would also tell you one thing: she is notorious. She crushes the hearts of those who are brave enough to act on their foolish dreams and eats it for breakfast, with a cup of hot tsokolate on the side. All it takes is a bucket of water.

But of course, someone such as her would not burden herself with the task of fetching water; even at the expense of the misery of others. Little do they know, Paulita would not have the weapon to scourge their yearning souls if not for her dearest companion, Juliana.

Juli is, though simple and tainted with the blood of indios in her veins, as alluring as her friend. Paulita was a witness to that: she, herself, was a person of great beauteousness as well as an admirer of the arts; it would be a shame if she did not know what beauty looks like. Juli’s quiet poise was concealed in a blindingly plain kamisa, but to Paulita, she was hard to miss. She knew Juliana was different from all the other ladies she had the misfortune to come across. She is a lakambini, a muse. She had a face made to be captured by the loving strokes of an artist’s brush; hair of the darkest obsidian; a voice which could entrance even the wisest of men. She did not belong in Hermana Penchang’s house. She belonged in Paulita’s care, under her wing.

What a sight the two of them together would be! They would be divinities, they would bless the streets with their mere presence; neither one paling in comparison to the other, both as radiant as the sun above. They belonged together.

And so, with a few pulls of a string, Paulita managed to get Juli to work for her and her aunt.

Juli quickly learned her place in the lavish manor: in the mornings, she would work as a maid, rendering the domestic help Donya Victorina paid her generously (due to Paulita’s incessant persuasion, of course) for; then when night falls, she would be a friend to Paulita. She sat with her as she told her stories of all the boys who fell at her feet, of the painting she saw here, of the poem Isagani wrote for her, of the weird kura there. More often than not the house is visited by a group of young men, wielding their best behaviour, clothes, and instruments—but not always a melodious voice. When this happens, they share a look: Juli would cringe at the less-than-charming singing, and Paulita would voice her aversion (“That is a disgrace to music!”). The former would stand to get her trusty bucket, fill it up to the brim, and hand it to the latter; who would take her place by the window, prepared to unleash a wave of rejection at the poor, unfortunate soul down below.

Tonight is one of those nights where the brave come out to take their chances.

True enough, a hymn of love—which might have been gorgeous if not for the voice of the person singing—flitted through a minuscule crack in the window. Juli yields the detrimental bucket; unsurprised when Paulita shoots her a look of amusement and a devious grin.

Juli knew she should be afraid, but every time Paulita flashes her that smile, she understands why almost every boy falls at her feet. 

“It’s Juanito Pelaez.” She says. Juli knew her well enough to figure that she finds this particular suitor and his endeavors to charm her purely comical. “He even brought a whole ensemble with him, it’s like a fiesta!”

Juanito was a name Juli has heard far too often in the de Espadanya household. Victorina absolutely adores him, charmed by the heaps of gold behind his name; while Paulita is apathetic—she often pulls faces whenever her aunt mentions the idea of her marrying him, to which Juli discreetly laughs. His harana sessions were frequent and switched between extravagant and a party, yet Paulita never gave him the time of day; never opened her window once. He was one of the blessed few she hasn’t dumped a slew of freezing liquid on yet; the sole reason being the fact that she enjoys watching him try.

Juli sets the container on the sill and stands beside her friend. “You won’t be needing this, then?”

The moonlight catches on their hair and skin, bathing them in an ethereal glow. Juli absolutely loves seeing Paulita this way; she adored the way her mischief is illuminated, leaving her bare of the demure façade she puts up. In this light, Paulita is different; human. This sight is reserved for her (and Isagani) alone.

Paulita glances at the water then tilts her head, listening to Juanito’s off-key profession of love. After a moment, she shrugs. “Do you think he’ll stop if I do it?”

“It’s worth a shot.” Hesitance is evident in Juli’s tone. She’s heard stories about the Pelaez boy in the market, and she was interested in seeing how he would react to humiliation. “I mean, don’t you think he’s gotten far too lucky?”

“His violin is beautiful, though.”

“I know. I’d miss it, too.” She wasn’t lying; she has never heard such an intrument before. It was no secret Juanito was skilled.

Paulita pauses for a moment, her fingers gripping the bucket’s mouth uncertainly. For some reaon, Juli held her breath--she might have grabbed the bucket. Whatever curiosity she had about Juanito's defeat had dissipated, she just wanted to save the poor man from sheer shame. 

But alas, she wasn't quick enough. With a curl of her lips, her teeth cutting through the dark deviously, and the last few bars of Juanito’s song; Paulita yanks the window open and tips the pail over. Juli flinches. The music halts. Juanito’s party apologizes for disturbing their den and trudges off dejectedly.

She dusts her palms off, putting a hand on her hip. “Thank you, yet again, Juliana. If I know him, he’ll be back as soon as he recovers.”

Juli shakes her head and whisks away the pail. They always come back, even the worst of them. And she’ll be there with Paulita. She always is.

\---

The next time Juanito came, Juli wasn’t around anymore. She wasn’t around to hand Paulita her bucket of water; the only person standing beside her was her Aunt Victorina.

“Go. Open the window, my girl.” She says. “You won’t do well with that Isagani of yours; I heard he got thrown in jail.”

Juli was dead, Isagani was in jail. To Paulita, the only thing she could do was to save herself from an empty future. The only thing she could see was a bleak tomorrow without her, and a lifetime of being a disgrace in his arms. Maybe, just maybe, she could have a better life with Juanito.

She opened the window.

**Author's Note:**

> okay listen up fam  
> I read an article about harana culture and as it turns out, it's more than just a girl dumping the contents of an arinola over a boy's head. Here are a few nuggets of information about it:  
> -yes, the Harana is actually a group affair and not a romantic song number performed by only one person  
> -water and/or pee is not involved (gasps); should the shutters remain shut, the serenaders just perform a song of farewell and book it the fuck out of there  
> -the serenade group isn't a boyband. girls can join in on the fun  
> -you guys can read more here: http://florante.org/blog/2012/11/02/top-10-misconceptions-about-the-custom-of-harana1/
> 
> it's pretty legit. trust me.


End file.
